Your Turn to Be the Wingman

Before long, a Quinjet arrived above the house.

Once it landed, two men stepped out.

One had an enormous head, his bald scalp gleaming with the light of wisdom. Naturally, he was Dr. Sterns.

The other was tall and broad, with shoulder-length hair, rugged features, and an arrogant expression.

Even though his mouth was empty, everyone felt as though he were talking to them with a toothpick dangling from his lips.

This was Ivan.

Ever since Apocalypse had subdued him with a "bird," Ivan had refused to join Stark Industries or S.H.I.E.L.D. Instead, he had gone to work alongside Dr. Sterns at the laboratory Apocalypse had established.

Before Apocalypse could ask, Dr. Sterns hurried to explain, "Mr. Tang, my specialty is life sciences. Ivan is better at cracking chips, so I brought him along."

"Hello, Mr. Tang."

Ivan greeted him politely, his attitude utterly different from the last time Apocalypse had seen him.

There was none of the rugged, unrestrained manner of a burly Siberian man. If anything, he seemed a little reserved.

Apocalypse had already been immensely powerful when Ivan first met him, and his presence had felt oppressive.

As Apocalypse's strength and prestige grew, the last trace of resentment in Ivan's heart had vanished completely.

Dr. Sterns, however, knew that Apocalypse's first power had come from the Hulk blood he had personally injected into him.

Though he still held Apocalypse in awe, he felt differently from the others, with an inexplicable sense of closeness and superiority.

"Good. All the better that you're here. Take a look at this device. How can we crack it?"

The two carefully examined the chip device at the back of Taskmaster's neck.

Then they connected a laptop through its tiny port and studied the data.

Finally, Ivan said, "Mr. Tang, this chip isn't